


Lay on thy whips, O Love

by toujours_nigel



Category: The Charioteer - Mary Renault
Genre: Begging, Cock Tease, Dom/sub Undertones, Kinktober, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 17:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toujours_nigel/pseuds/toujours_nigel
Summary: "Ask nicely," Bunny said, and ran a light fingertip over the dampening silk of Ralph's pyjamas.





	Lay on thy whips, O Love

Bunny knew he had been right when the third minute had ticked over and Ralph was still lying on the bed. He’d breezed past looking bored, straight into looking exasperated. If you looked at his face you might have thought he was about to take right off into the night, maybe after hitting Bunny upside the head some. If you looked a fair bit lower, well, you might still have temporised, said it was a natural effect of where Bunny had his hands. But it had been three minutes and he was still on the bed, shifting a little from time to time when stoicism lost the fight. Bunny hadn’t tied him down, it seemed a waste, with all the knots they taught sailors. Besides, Ralph would have seen that as a challenge, or pretended he couldn’t manage, or hurt himself in some way that meant they had to stop. This was a lot more honest.

“Bunny,” Ralph said, cajoling now that peremptoriness had failed to elicit the expected response. “Let me up.”

“I’m not holding you down. Well,” Bunny paused, and ran a light forefinger over the silk. “I suppose I am, a bit. But you could just shrug me off and leave.”

With some of his boyfriends he would have tied them down good and tight before trying anything this risky, but Ralph wouldn’t have dreamt of hitting him for this. All Ralph’s guilt turned inwards, scratch him and you’d find a Catholic. He ran his fingers over the head of Ralph’s penis outlined through the pyjamas, pressing his thumbnail in this time. Nothing hard, just making his presence known. Effective, judging by the speed with which the cloth got damp.

“Bunny,” Ralph said again, and yelped very nicely when Bunny drew his thumb and forefinger over his helmet, pinching the slit together. “Turn me loose.”

“In... six more minutes, if you can’t bear to ask nicely.”

“I am.”

Poor dear, maybe he really thought he was. But no, that wouldn’t wash. Ralph knew himself too well; he even wrote it all down when he thought nobody was looking.

“Then you can wait another six minutes, can’t you?”

“I’m not sure I can.” He was so _taking_ when he stopped pretending he was fifty and stern, Bunny decided to help him on a little. It was easy to wrap a hand over the length of him even through the pyjamas, he was hard enough for it, and the way he moaned and pushed up into the touch was very satisfactory. But the way he said “ _Boo_ ,” like it was wrecking him was even better.

Bunny took his hand off entirely, folding both primly on his lap. He was hard himself, but he didn’t think anyone in the world could blame him with the way Ralph looked unmoored without touch. He was still lying flat and obedient, if Bunny’d needed more proof he liked it, really.

“What do you want?” The fun was to keep touching him till he broke, of course, but it couldn’t hurt to know what Ralph really liked. It couldn’t possibly be everything, the way he’d been pretending. Nobody did. Well, Bunny had time; Ralph couldn’t see the watch, and his internal time-keeping had to be shot.

“For you to let me up,” Ralph said. Bunny promptly put his hand back where it had been, palming Ralph’s bulge for good measure. It hadn’t flagged in the least. “Bunny. My dear, how can I agree to what you want when you won’t tell me what it is?”

No wonder they’d taken a switch to Ralph or expelled him for answering back or whatever it was that he and Alec made such a mystery about. Bunny ground his hand down and brought it back up damp. The next time Ralph said something stupid he was going to make him taste himself.

“I asked what you wanted,” he said, as carefully as he could. “If it is to turn you loose you can just stay quiet the next five minutes. If it’s something else you can ask nicely in that time.”

Ralph lasted another minute, which was impressive considering Bunny spent that time tapping out Morse on his crotch. Dit dit. Dah dit dit. Dit dit. Dah dah dah. Dah. _Idiot_. He wasn’t particularly proficient, so he took his time with it, wiping out errors and starting over.

Then he said, “Bunny, please,” in a voice as hoarse as if he’d been screaming this whole while.

“Elucidate,” Bunny said brightly, in the tone he’d practised before first walking into a classroom at the Naval base.

“Please stop fucking around and do something. You’re driving me crazy.”

“That’s not asking nicely.” He slid his hand a couple inches down and back, and squeezed the base of Ralph’s penis, cheerfully brutal. “Try again.”

“For Christ’s sake, you bloody tease. Get over here and...” he held for a moment, panting and gathering himself when Bunny squeezed again. “Come up and kiss me, or put your mouth on me, or just. Come and fuck me, stop playing coy and get on with it. Bunny, please.”

“Your body’s being rather more eloquent than you are,” Bunny said, and demonstrated by taking a wet fold of the silk between his fingers, more vindicated by the second. “Try again.”

“Please. Bunny. Boo. Come fuck me, just stop playing around and put your hands on me, stop teasing, stop bloody torturing me and just come here. Please, _please_ fuck me. I don’t care, I’ll say what you want, just...”

“Say please fuck me _sir_ ,” Bunny said, tugging the waistband of his pyjamas up and out and realised by the quality of silence that he’d gone a step too far, or swerved suddenly in the wrong direction. “Ralph.”

“I think,” Ralph said in the tone that expected and received unquestioning obedience, “that you’d better get your hands off me.

Bunny took his hands off and removed to the living-room for good measure, tempted and very afraid to put on the radio even after he could hear water running in the bathroom. There wouldn’t be anything worth the effort, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Title again from the Harriet&Peter sonnet in Gaudy Night, this time with profuse apologies.


End file.
